


Letters into the Past II

by Shadow_Chaser



Series: Letters Home [6]
Category: Assassin's Creed, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Achilles tries to manipulate Tallmadge, Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Post-Episode: s02e08 Providence, Post-Mission Sequence 9 Mission 1, References a lot of AC Rogue - especially Lawrence Washington and Shay Cormac, Reverend Tallmadge is a papa wolf, Reverend Tallmadge's past history as an Assassin explored
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:13:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4892443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Chaser/pseuds/Shadow_Chaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Achilles visits Reverend Nathaniel Benjamin Tallmadge, Sr. in his home in Wethersfield, Connecticut while Connor is at Valley Forge.  What he finds is a man who is equally protective of his remaining son as he is of the Brotherhood's secrets and former life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters into the Past II

The house was rather plain and inconspicuous with white paint and black shutters. At first glance, it was a house that looked very much like the others and deterred those who may have wished harm on the occupants. He supposed that it was the point of the house, considering the others he had seen in Wethersfield on his way here. A very small part of Achilles wondered just how much was the younger Tallmadge taught by his father before he had left for boarding school and from there, Yale. An even smaller part scoffed at his notion and considered he might have been over-thinking things. But he buried that part deeply as he knew the occupant in the house would have chosen such plain cover to protect himself no matter what – the lessons learned by joining the Brotherhood were never forgotten after all.

“Thank you Duncan,” he could feel the Assassin behind him, ready to assist him up the small stone steps towards the door. A small layer of hard-packed snow on the path to the front door had long frozen, leaving it a slightly precarious walk from the carriage to the front door. Achilles waved away the Assassin's help, but was inwardly touched that the younger man had insisted on accompanying him. Connor had found a good man for the Brotherhood, along with Stephen Chapeau and the others he had recruited. But he had learned that Duncan Little had a more extraordinary connection to the Assassins because of what the current Grand Master of the Templars had done when he was a little boy. Such violence, like watching his uncle die in front of his eyes, should never be visited upon such people, but Achilles supposed it was a sign from whatever deities or maybe the Precursors, that Haytham had not killed Duncan Little at the opera house years ago.

“It is nothing of consequence, Mentor,” Duncan murmured his reply as Achilles knocked gently on the door.

There was a muffled noise of someone possibly saying 'I got it' before the door opened and Achilles smiled slightly at the sight of an aged, but not forgotten face of his long-time friend and former student. “Hello, old friend,” he greeted.

“Mentor,” Reverend Nathaniel Benjamin Tallmadge, Sr. breathed out quietly before remembering his manners and opened the door wider, gesturing with a hand for him to come in. “Where are my manners? Please, do come in.”

“Thank you,” he replied as he hobbled in, wincing at the old aches and pains the winter was causing on his bones, especially his leg. He heard Duncan follow him in before the door was shut and one of Tallmadge's servants attempted to take his jacket, but Achilles waved him away. He saw the brief confused look come over the fellow African's face at the seemingly deferential status he had been conferred upon by Tallmadge and by Duncan, but resolutely ignored it. He had long seen the surprise on people's faces that a black man such as himself was treated with such respect and while Achilles knew that he wanted to do something about it, his priorities and heart laid with the Brotherhood. Once the world was free of Templar influences, then there would be time to right the social injustices of the world brought on by Templar machinations.

He shrugged out of his jacket, letting Tallmadge take it instead, along with Duncan's, before the man gestured for them to enter his sitting room where a great hearth of fire was roaring and crackling already. Achilles hobbled over to the hearth and sat down on one of the high-backed plush chairs, relaxing a little as Duncan warmed his hands against the fire. He knew the young Assassin had questions as to why he had been tasked with taking him to this particular house for no apparent reason, but had learned to stay his questions with careful observation.

“I had not expected you to visit, sir,” Tallmadge came back in, bearing a tray of tea and some shortcakes, “though perhaps that was not exactly what I meant.”

“Your son talked to you then,” Achilles surmised and saw the elder Tallmadge nod once as he poured the fresh pot of tea and gave one to him and to Duncan. Achilles declined the offer of shortcakes, but Duncan took one before moving to seat himself on another seat next to Achilles.

“That too, had been a surprise, though not unwelcome,” Tallmadge finished pouring his own cup before taking the seat opposite his own and gestured with a chin towards Duncan, “is this-”

“Duncan Little, sir,” the Assassin reached over and shook Tallmadge's extended hand, “Mentor Davenport's apprentice Connor recently recruited me into the Brotherhood.”

“Connor's dealing with some business in General Washington's camp,” Achilles offered and saw a wistful smile appear on Tallmadge's face.

“It is a pity I cannot meet your new apprentice, Mentor. But I am sure that he and my son will get along,” Tallmadge took a sip of his tea before tilting his head a little, “but I am sure you did not come all this way to tell me this?”

Achilles could not kill the involuntary smile that split his face. Tallmadge was still as astute and sharp as the day he had entered into the service of the Assassins long before the French and Indian War. “I see the years have been kind to your skills as ever, Tallmadge.” He saw the corner of wry smile appear on the corner of Tallmadge's face as he continued, “Duncan here has some sharp eyes. I would have asked one the Brotherhood's other recruits, Clipper Wilkinson to teach Duncan here, but he has been dealing with an on-going issue in Rhode Island. I would be grateful if you could help nurture his skills for the next few days.”

Tallmadge took a quiet sip of his tea as he contemplated the offer in quiet silence. Achilles was inwardly pleased that his former apprentice had learned well over the years how to conceal his true feelings as well as to hide all his thoughts behind a placid facade. He supposed that it was what enabled Tallmadge to survive undetected since the death of the Brotherhood's leadership years ago. Those were days that Achilles did not like to think about, but with Connor's recent missions and the fact that the Grand Master of the Templars' name crossed his correspondence more than once since the start of the war made him think more and more about the days of yore. Now, deliberately bringing Duncan to meet Tallmadge and learn from him, it was certainly hearkening to the past days when the Brotherhood had thrived and reigned in the Colonies.

“I retired from that life long ago, Achilles,” the response was polite, but the words were anything but as Achilles watched the elder Tallmadge through his still-sharp eyes.

There was anger there, along with a distinctive frostiness that he had long associated with the former marksman. Back during his days in the brotherhood, Achilles had made it a point to get to know and even work at least one mission – be it a simple courier one or even ones that required the neutralization of targets – and he had found the senior Tallmadge to be one of the more consummate professionals, even amongst the core of the Brotherhood's leadership. His aloofness and cold demeanor, especially among his fellow brothers and sisters of the order made him hard to approach, but Achilles had seen some of it break from time to time. It had also been what made him pass Nathaniel Tallmadge over for one of the leadership positions; he seemed too cold, too remote unlike Shay, Liam, Hope, and the others to be considered an effective leader. Instead, Achilles had used him the capacity of occasionally teaching his more advance apprentices the intricacies of rifling and sniping targets. The elder Tallmadge had seemed a solitary creature, but Achilles knew that even he was not addled-brain enough to be remiss in knowing when to use the skills of blending and opening up to groups – hence his current profession as a Reverend.

Achilles was silent as he considered Tallmadge's words, but before he could speak, he saw Tallmadge lift a finger and the servant that had attempted to take his jacket suddenly appeared, head bowed quickly. “Joseph, please show Duncan where he can help Achilles set up their rooms for tonight,” Tallmadge said, not even attempting to conceal the fact that he was all but ordering Duncan out, leaving the two of them alone.

“...Mentor,” out of the corner of Achilles' eyes, he saw Duncan stand up hesitantly, hastily finishing his shortcake before setting his tea cup down. He seemed a little unsure, but seemed to recover his wits as he bowed politely to the two of them and followed the servant, Joseph, out of the room.

As soon as the sounds of Joseph and Duncan's footsteps ascended the stairs, Achilles set his own cup down and leaned forward, “I am not trying to recruit your son, Tallmadge.”

“Good,” Tallmadge suddenly pinned him with a very hostile-looking glare, “because I still remember _your_ type of dealings. Hidden words, concealed goals, things you would not tell the others only to see them get killed-”

“I was the Mentor of the Assassins-”

“Not anymore,” Tallmadge countered heatedly.

“You of all people should realize the secrets we had to keep, what had to be concealed because it would break the world as we know it,” Achilles snapped, feeling the sudden surge of anger roil through him. It was not the frustrating weariness and affectionate anger he sometimes felt towards Connor, but this was genuine anger. Tallmadge  _knew_ what had happened, he had been there. And here he was preaching to him like he was on his pulpit.

“It literally broke it as far as I remember,” the elder Tallmadge growled out quietly, “thrice if I am not mistaken. Haiti, Lisbon, the far north-”

“Those were my sins, my errors,” Achilles countered, “and something  _not_ for your religious ears to hear if you do not believe anymore.”

“Oh I still believe, Achilles. I just don't know if I believe in your leadership anymore,” Tallmadge shot back, “you have long past your years and yet the first hint of power, of this new apprentice named Connor, I hear, come knocking on your door and you rise up to take the chains of power. Are you that infatuated with it that it would consume you like all of the seven sins? That you lust and would glutton yourself of what it means to be Mentor once more?”

Achilles pressed his lips into a thin line as he felt a spike of genuine fury towards the elder Tallmadge. “I paid for that with this,” he gestured towards his lame leg. The bullet wound never did heal properly and it ached so much, especially in the dead of winter. “Would you have me confess all of my sins to such a false preacher who does not even believe in the existence of God and instead  _knows_ what is truly out there?”

“It is better than believing in the fact that the Precursors built the sites to tempt us into power that we never needed-”

“Then you would give it to the Templars?!”

“No!” Tallmadge hissed in an almost-shout, “I would have you stop what you are doing and let the past die!”

Achilles leaned forward, tenting his fingers together as he rested them on his knees, “And pray tell, my former apprentice, what is it you think I am doing? What are you so afraid of that you welcome me into your home, but refuse to even talk in a civilized manner?”

He saw Tallmadge open his mouth, but continued forcibly, “Are you so afraid that I would take your remaining son away from you? That I would cast whatever spell had brought you and Connor to the Brotherhood and force Benjamin to choose to serve the Brotherhood over to living his own life?”

Tallmadge was silent for a few seconds before grudgingly speaking up, “You certainly had an interest in Precusor temples and sites back then to trigger three earthquakes. What else was I to think that you had gotten your second wind at this war to search for them again?”

Achilles shook his head and stared at Tallmadge, “You ignorant child. I am  _old_ , I have this leg, and I have certainly learned my lesson from Shay Cormac if not for his mercy at holding Haytham Kenway's gun from killing me back then.”

“Then what-”

“If you ever meet Connor, you will understand why I have come out of my...shell, so to speak,” Achilles interrupted him, but added in a more gentle tone, “but you are right to suspect my intentions.”

Tallmadge's jaw worked for a few seconds before he sat back in silence and nodded once for him to continue.

“I had come to ask for you to not only train Duncan, but to help persuade your son to join the Brotherhood. Connor mistrusts the intentions of the Patriots from time to time. He likes honesty and openness to the point where I fear the life of an Assassin will crush his spirit and leave him-”

“Like yourself,” Tallmadge interjected none too kindly, but seemed to soften it with the twitch of a crooked smile.

Achilles took his words with some grace, still feeling the residual fury of their heated conversation, “Like myself, I suppose. Your son already has the rudimentary skills and has so much more potential if we were able to teach him. He is Washington's Head of Intelligence, a position not acquired lightly and apparently has been learning some of the more finer trade-craft from Nathaniel Sackett.”

“Sackett's alive?” Tallmadge looked surprised before Achilles shook his head.

“Died, by an assassin's hand. One of the British regulars, not associated with the Templars. I've inquired into it, but it seems Grand Master Kenway's hand was not involved,” he answered and saw the brief sadness flit across the former Assassin's face, before he rubbed his eyes as he picked up his tea cup and took an absent sip of the tea.

“You think Sackett might have been protecting him?”

“The possibility is there, but I believe that Sackett was more concerned about acquiring Washington into our fold. I have not communicated with him since the purge, but it might seem that Sackett might have thought Washington would have been someone who was to be watched.”

It only took Tallmadge a second to figure out what Achilles meant as something flashed behind his eyes, “Washington's older brother, Lawrence-”

“Was a Templar,” Achilles finished with a nod as he sat back in his chair, “the Grand Master of the Templars in the Colonies before Haytham Kenway came with the Colonial Rite.”

Tallmadge rubbed his chin, “You want someone near George Washington to turn him into an ally or even sympathetic to the Assassin cause, do you not?”

“Haytham Kenway has made it clear that he supports General Charles Lee in this war,” Achilles was still astounded at how astute his former apprentice was. Normally he would have to explain step by step, especially to Connor whom some things sometimes went over his head – though he supposed it was partially due to the lack of education and experience he had among the white men as well as his naivety in certain political arenas of white men.

But he also could see that his words had the desired effect on Reverent Tallmadge as he straightened almost imperceptibly and seemed a little angry, “Lee is nothing more than an idiot playing at General. Indecisive and unwilling to commit troops to any prolonged engagement.”

“I hear your son in those words,” Achilles said behind his teacup, trying to hide the smile from appearing on his face. He had heard similar reports from some of the other contacts he had around the Colonies. But he was not Mentor if not for his thorough research into his opposition – as much as he was allowed due to his age and for not reneging on his agreement with Grand Master Kenway all those years ago. It had also been the reason why he had allowed Connor to take the brunt of a lot of the public front of the Assassin Brotherhood's revival. If he could persuade Tallmadge to convince his son to join them, then Connor's strength would be bolstered – and they would easily have Washington in their pocket as an assured ally. He was pretty sure that Washington would also enjoy the intelligence of the Brotherhood's vast network as well as their strength and protection.

“And because the Templars back Charles Lee means that you believe Lawrence Washington never involved his younger brother in any of the Templars' affairs – keeping him out of the war between our two factions. Otherwise, Kenway would have never agreed to back Lee over the younger brother of the former Grand Master,” Tallmadge continued, his voice thoughtful as he considered everything said.

“Allegiances change,” he replied neutrally and heard the quiet snort of agreement from Tallmadge.

“Still, you mean to turn the younger brother of a Templar ranked that high...” Tallmadge seemed impressed, but shook his head, “and your attempt to ply my sympathy at such circumstances in which mirrors my son's own plight...”

Achilles could not hide the frown that appeared on his face at how sharp Tallmadge's words had hit home. Damn him and his ability to read any situation and see to the heart of the matter. “From what I have gathered, his is a fine officer, and has the makings of a very good intelligence officer. He has shown hints of the sharpness you've possessed thus far, and if we could hone it, he would be a formidable enemy to the British and to the Templars. He is devoted to Washington and thus would be able to advance our cause and banish the Templars from the Colonies-”

“No,” Tallmadge interrupted with a shake of his head.

“No?”

“No,” he repeated as he set his cup down with a sigh, “I cannot do as you ask, Mentor. And that is my final answer. My son has been independent of my care, home, and confidence since I sent him away from Setauket to Connecticut.” He met the intense stare of the elder Tallmadge, “Benjamin is a fine officer, soldier, and gentleman. He joined the Continentals of his own free will, independent of my opinion and knowing full well that he could not come home to Setauket when the British garrisoned their troops there. He rose through the ranks of his own skill with little to no help from either the Templars or Assassins. He garnered Washington's respect before all of this and now serves as his Head of Intelligence. He might have made mistakes, might have been foolish and headstrong to raid Setauket for mine and the families of Patriots' safety, but he did it without any help from the Brotherhood.”

Tallmadge sat forward, “I will not pressure him to join the Brotherhood. His reasons and his cause are not like the circumstances that brought me to the Homestead.” A wistful smile tugged the corners of the Reverend's lips, “There might have been a time where I would have committed him to training...but maybe I am glad that circumstances allowed me to become a Reverend and allow my son to realize a life outside the confines of the Brotherhood.”

Achilles took his words with a certain amount of grace before nodding, “I...see...”

“But you do not understand,” Tallmadge finished for him.

“No,” he admitted, “I do not.”

“You may ask him yourself if you do see him again, Mentor Davenport. But I will not force my son to do anything he does not want to do anymore. He is his own man.”

Achilles knew then and there that he would not convince Nathaniel Tallmadge otherwise and set his cup down, “Then I apologize for coming all the way out here and bothering you-”

“I will, however, teach Duncan everything I know of rifling,” Tallmadge interrupted gently, “my son may not be part of the Brotherhood, but I was and still am a loyal member of our order.”

Achilles smiled slightly at his words, “Then, I thank you for your efforts and offer, Tallmadge.” It was not much, but Achilles supposed that it was the best he was going get. Gone were the days where he thought that the offer of a different but exciting life would tempt someone. Age had made all of them reflect upon what was, what is, and what might be – and for some, especially like Tallmadge, he supposed that time had shown him something different than what Achilles had seen. The fire of what the Templars had done to their Brotherhood so long ago had already burned out by the religious text that Reverend Tallmadge had taken up. But for Achilles, those fires had been re-stoked by Connor's efforts.

 

~END~

 


End file.
